No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

I can't remember exactly when my phone died, but I do recall being scooped up from the bathroom into Ernest's arms, feeling as if every bone in my body had turned to jelly.

I was so tired, too tired to even lift my eyelids. I curled up under the covers and fell asleep.

"Just rest for a bit. I'll make you some chicken soup," Ernest's husky voice murmured close to my ear.

I hummed in response and drifted off into sleep.

However, in my half-asleep state, I kept hearing my phone ringing.

But I didn't want to move, nor could I open my eyes. I groped around beside me, finding nothing.

"Ernest, Ernest..." I called out.

Ernest hurried over, bending down slightly, "What's up?"

My eyes remained closed as I continued, "My phone...it's so noisy."

"Hm?" He seemed not to catch what I said.

"The phone, noisy," I repeated.

Ernest didn't respond at first, but after a moment, he said, "Licia, you're dreaming. Your phone isn't making noise; it's turned off."

Really? But what about the ringing I heard?

I didn't speak further, choosing instead to continue sleeping until I woke up.NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

Ernest was sitting at the desk across the bed, seemingly engrossed in drawing something. He was so focused he didn't notice I had woken up.

I sat up and saw he was working on some blueprints.

He had never stopped working, which explained why Grant Smith never gave him a hard time for not going to the office.

He had silently taken care of everything that needed to be done.

Seeing him like this, I didn't have the heart to disturb him, so I quietly got out of bed.

However, my movement still caught his attention. He turned, saw I was up, and immediately came over, putting his pen down, "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked busy," I said, noticing my voice was hoarse.

Recalling our earlier lack of control, my cheeks instantly flamed.

Ernest noticed too, "I'll get you some throat lozenges."

"No need, I..." I stumbled over my words.

Ernest's dark eyes fixed on me, "Don't want them?"

It wasn't that I didn't want them; I actually craved a baked apple. @ Whenever I had a sore throat, Lloved eating a baked apple filled with honey and a dash of cinnamon, its juice especially soothing.

There was this gourmet dried fruit shop in Seabreeze City that made the best baked apples, unlike anywhere else.

Except for their baked apples, I wouldn't eat anyone else's.

Sometimes I can be that particular, which is probably why I had been fixated on Conrad for ten years.

With that thought, I couldn't bring

myself to express my craving fora baked apple in front of Ernest.

Instead, I lied, "I hate the Stet

taste of

lozenges. I'll just drink more water."

Ernest made soup and some side dishes, all available from the hotel room's kitchen. Hotel marketing has indeed evolved, offering much more than just a room and a bed,

providing amenities almostel?

like

swne

home.

After eating the soup and sides, my throat felt much better.

However, having just woken up, I was no longer tired, but Ernest seemed to be. I caught him trying to keep his eyes open several times. "Ernest, you should get some sleep. I can take care of the dishes," I said, gently pushing him towards the bedroom.

"I need to take a shower; I smell like cooking," Ernest meant he hadn't showered after cooking and immediately got to work on his drawings.

I turned him towards the bathroom, urging him, "Then hurry up."

As I pulled him closer, I sniffed his hair, "It smells good, no smell of cooking. You don't need to wash your hair."

He frowned, "You can shower without washing your hair?"

"Of course," I chuckled. "Ernest, you don't wash your hair every time you shower, do you?"